A Long Shot
by BearStuds
Summary: Hawkeye and Deadpool are forced to work together and they have lot of chemistry.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome one and all to the circus of our minds and the carousel of our hearts, where the music never ends and you wish you'd eaten six less hot dogs!

 **"** **You think that's a pretty good line, don't you sweetie?"**

I haven't gotten to you yet, Wade…

 **"** **No one's here for your sissy ass, though… not bad to either of you."**

You're just going to keep interrupting me, aren't you?

 **"** **No shit, so get on with it."**

Alright, fine. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Deadpool. If you have no idea who that is you've been asleep for the last two month or you might have been dead.

 **"** **I love dying, I get to visit that fun place with all the ghouls and my girl."**

You know you're hardcore gay in this story, right?

"She says she's making us gay."

 _"_ _Well, I don't know about you two but I'll fuck anything so what-evs!"_

Oh look your friends came to say hello, hello there!

 **"** **You two need to shut the hell up, making us look bad. We're totally straight and we just tease. Queer baiting… yep, that's what we do…"**

"But if Deadpool.. If we are a polydimensional character where external influences affect our internal state, wouldn't fanfiction and Slash have a say?'

 _"_ _I'd totally bone Spidey… that's what we're talking about, right?"_

Correct, only in this, it's going to be Hawkeye.

 **"** **What, why him?"**

"Agreed, we are not shipped with him very often."

 _"_ _Still hot, I'm in."_

Bluntly- we're fangirls and we like it. You want a more detailed answer?

 **"** **Sure, gotta hear the reasoning behind this shit."**

Well that's too bad jack-ass. Enjoy the ride.

In the year 2019 in the city of New York, a battle like no other waged across the lower east side of Manhattan. Earlier that very afternoon, a villain unlike any of his peers dawned his six foot tall rubberized frog costume, tuned his springs, and bounced through the glass of a jewelry store window. Despite the fact that a certain hero, or anti-hero, as many would call him, was standing nearby at a corner taco stand, luck remained on the side of Vincent Patilio that day.

"Damn it you… hold still and just let me shoot you! It'll only take a second, I promise." Wade Wilson honestly didn't care who got away with whatever gems they wanted, or not, wasn't his business. What he did mind was the loss of his favorite taco stand, Tacos Buena Puta. He stared at the broken husks and spilled meat that surrounded the destroyed cart, a whimper on his lips. This had been more than enough to seek revenge on the crook that had killed his beloved Rico's thriving business venture.

"Who the hell is going to stop and let them shoot you, moron?" Leapfrog…

 **"** **Literally the worst villain in all of the Marvel canon you could have chosen. Thanks ladies, you're the best. And the taco stand, really?"**

Leapfrog felt as though the world had frozen for a brief second as he landed near a fountain in Central Park. He looked around and quickly jumped again, moving out of the way as bullets followed his path. Vincent panted softly, needing a breath and hoping a bit of conversation might buy him some time. "You're nuts, you know that? Don't you care about innocents?"

"Who the hell is innocent in this day and age?"

"Children, maybe?"

"Oh, you haven't played Halo, have you? Those assholes are little devils, and I've met the guy. He'd be so proud."

The frog suited robber scrambled around the fountain, his springs beginning to creak, having a mechanical error at a time like this did not seem very lucky, not in the least. However, as previously stated, the frog was piss drunk in good fortune. Deadpool's guns clicked once, then twice. "Oh, you're out of bullets."

Wade exhaled, giving a shrug as he reached behind his back for his… it was at this moment he realized that he'd only brought his guns. Wearing his katana in a tracksuit was tacky, not to mention mildly uncomfortable. "Fuck."

Vincent seized the moment, kicking out with both the power of his springs and the physical weight of his legs. There was an audible crunch as the merc's ribs snapped and his body was thrown back across the brick courtyard and into a tree. Though he was more of the robber type, only in it for the money, the man in the frog suit did find the sound of Deadpool's body hitting the trunk of a giant oak rather satisfying.

"I would assume this is where the real hero comes in?"  
 _"_ _They could just let the frog get away and then have us go dancing. A one night hook-up… find out it's Bird Boy. Ain't that how yaoi usually goes?"_

 **"** **I think they're going for more of a relationship. We'll just have to wait and see, so shuddup and watch."**

Vincent didn't get very far. Actually, he barely got to the end of the courtyard before his body was engulfed in a large net. The texture wasn't rope, it was sticky and oozed down into cracks wherever it found any. The man struggled and twisted, only making it worse by causing the threads to spread and tighten.

A tall blonde stood near the oak and gave a casual sideways glance, "Really?" was all he said. Not that anything else really needed to be added. The insults applied themselves. Clint meandered towards Wade, taking his time to get there, savoring the painful crackling sound as the merc ripped away from the imprint he'd left in the tree. "Good to see you, Wade."

"Barton…what's my nickname for you today?" Wilson shamelessly laid still while his body healed.

"No idea. Tell me when you think of it."

"Bow Boy… lame. Legolas? Overused…"

Clint rolled his eyes and approached the trapped villain, who had given up the struggle and resorted to trying to chew through the net material. The archer narrowed his eyes and snapped a picture with his cell phone to send to Fury, although for a criminal as harmless as Leapfrog, the NYPD would probably be more likely to handle him. "You're going to jail, Frog Man. Why a frog? You could have at least made it something cool..."

"Katniss? No…" Wade wasn't paying much attention to Clint or Vincent now. Determined to find a cute but slightly insulting nickname for the archer. "Arrow is too on the nose, though he's basically a copy of you right? Oliver is just rich…"

 _"_ _Ohhh we like rich, let's bang him instead."_

"Wrong universe, though I've see some Flash and Arrow slash that's quite nice."

 **"** **Both of you shut up! I'm trying to be clever here, you're ruining it!"**

 _"_ _Whiny bitch…"_

"Agreed…"

Vincent groaned, giving up on the chewing as well, whatever the stuff was it tasted nasty. "I jump, frogs jump. What's complicated about it? Besides, the suit needed to be big enough to hide the springs. And Toad was taken, though at least I have a decent face."

Wade snorted as his mind snapped back from debating with itself. "Ohhhh, he looks like a sick fuck with that tongue, doesn't he?" Almost fully healed Wilson rolled onto his front and then pulled himself up rolling his still aching shoulders. "Should give him a cookie for that one."

Clint sighed his arms settling into an X across his chest. "Do you have a cookie?"

"No, but now I want one and I wouldn't give it to him."

"Right, anyway, Fury is on his way to pick up Hopper here." Clint nudged Leapfrog with his foot. "Find a good name for me yet? I'm curious."

"Oh yea I did!" Deadpool paused for effect and made his own little drum roll. "Tightass!"

The archer raised a brow wholly confused as he was probably the least uptight member of the Avengers. "Well, at least one thing is normal: you make no sense."

"Trust me, give it about twenty pages…"

Barton just stared at his companion blankly. Sometimes he really did just make no sense at all. "Whatever Wade, you have a job to do." He pointed towards the trail of bullet holes. "Make sure you find every last one of them or I'll shove whatever's left up your ass next time I see you." The archer was visibly annoyed, "You have to stop firing into crowds."

"Stop fussing, I have perfect aim."

"No, I have perfect aim, you have decent aim when you're not… being yourself."

 **"** **He hates me, look at that. Exactly how are we going to work around that fact?"**

"It's not hate, he's disappointed in us. In you… but why would you care?"

 _"_ _Yeah, why do you care?"_

 **"** **Ugh… I hate you both."**

"Oh, he hates himself."

 _"_ _Knew that!"_

Wade rubbed his head, whimpering a bit, "Shut the hell up!" He moved, beginning to pick up his bullet and casings.

Clint's face fell a bit and after a long moment he bent down to help, "So, voices not so fun today?"

"You don't have to help me. I don't need your sympathy, Barton."

"What happened to Tightass?"

"You haven't earned it yet…" He popped a bullet from the side of a tree with his dagger and then picked a few off the ground, everything beginning to calm down. "He destroyed Tacos Buena Puta… I loved that place."

Barton groaned. He'd also had a weakness for that particular taco vendor. They always knew just how much sauce to put on. "Poor Rico...look I'm sure he'll get back on his feet in a few weeks. You'll live. Both of you. And after our next mission we'll have tacos to celebrate, deal?"

Wade visibly perked up at the idea, although he wasn't sure why it appealed to him that much… "Next time? Didn't think there'd be a next time." He crouched down to work a few bullets out of the ground and Clint chuckled lowly. Fury hadn't told him yet, then, that they'd be working closely together from here on out...

"Oh yeah, there'll be a next time."


	2. Chapter 2

"He constantly runs from fights and don't even get me started on his idea of humor!" Clint stood up out of his seat and frowned sternly at the Director of SHIELD, sticking his lower lip out into what could only be called a pout. Wade threw his arms up from his seat, situated in front of Fury's desk, but made no effort to deny his partner's claims. It was true, the hero did tend to cower at the first sign of danger. As for his jokes, they were meant to be innocent, but for some reason, Hawkeye just didn't find his dead baby and 'yo mama' jokes funny…

"I can't take it anymore! You don't pay me to babysit, and if I have to go on one more mission with this...this…" He turned to glower down at Wilson and searched for the right word.

Deadpool kindly assisted. "A-hole? Fuckface?"

Fury crossed his arms, looking extremely unimpressed. He didn't have time for this. "Watch your language, Wilson." With a huff, he turned his head down and brought a hand up to rub at his good eye. "Barton, I'm keeping you two together whether you like it or not. Now, we could sit here in my office all day and debate about it, but we both know that'd be a waste of time, because I'd win, so I suggest you both high-tail it out of here and get to work!"

Clint sat up and scoffed in frustration, but Fury was right. It looked like he was stuck with Deadpool for good. The past two missions had been a nightmare, and while Clint had known all about Deadpool's reputation, he'd really never expected...that. Horrible jokes, a reckless disregard for anyone's safety (including his own), an inability to accomplish the simplest of tasks without complaining, and perhaps most surprising of all, his habit of flirting with anything that moved.

Barton rose and moved towards the door in an attempt to avoid revealing any further details to Fury about their ill-fated partnership. His mind drifted as he walked out of the office and towards the landing pads to yesterday when he'd gotten so fed up he'd actually shot Wade, right through the chest. His response, "Oh, I think I'm in love, been shot by Cupid's arrow…" had actually been sort of...adorable.

Clint flushed, wishing to immediately smack himself for thinking that. Wilson was not in any way cute or fun to be around. He only made more work for the pair and more trouble for everyone around him. He had _no_ redeeming qualities. None.

As he got settled into the helicopter, the archer crossed his arms and waited for his partner to join him. "If you don't get in this vehicle right now, you'll be taking the quicker way down, Wade." He pulled out his phone and began looking over the next mission file. _Oh great…_

"You'd push me off the helicarrier? Through the turbines or just straight off? I haven't been sky-diving in a while, might be fun." Wilson plopped into the seat next to Hawkeye, not bothering with the seatbelt as his partner did. He peeked over at the phone screen, "What're you looking at? Porn? Old lady porn? Goat porn?"

"Our next mission." Clint said flatly, ignoring the way Wade had draped his arm around Clint's shoulders. He could not, however, remain neutral as the red-suited merc began to grope at his chest. "Wade, for the thousandth time, I'm a guy, stop it or I'll cut your hands off."

There was a pause and Wade shrugged, continuing to grope at nothing. "Worth it!'

The next thing Wilson knew, he was enjoying that sky-dive he'd just been thinking about. Hold the turbines.

Hawkeye sat on top of a building opposite to a cafe that their target was currently having lunch in. After collecting Deadpool's body from the ocean (luckily he had a tracker on his suit, or perhaps it was unlucky for Barton), they'd made their way to the city, found their 'victim' as Wade was calling him and began stalking. That was all they were suppose to do, but by lunch Clint was at his breaking point.

"Go home, I can handle this by myself. I don't need you screwing up a simple job like this one."

"We're supposed to work together." The merc pouted, or seemed to, through the hood. "I'm so bored! How do you not shoot yourself in the head, scream into infinity, bored?"

"Training, patience, sanity… things you don't have. Why don't you just shoot yourself if you think that will be better." The archer had yet to look away from the target's location even for a second.

"I can, you know I can, it'll only last forty-five minutes. Then I'm bored again."

"Hmmm, well if it'll give me some peace and quiet, try harder this time, for me."

Wade sighed deeply and laid out on his back next to where Clint was keeping watch. "Seriously, though, why do you do this?"

"Why do you do it?"

"Money, mostly… and there's nothing better to do."

"Aren't you rich already?" Barton inquired, getting up as the target came out of the cafe.

"Yeah, but money is money. Can't we just put a tracker on him? Tag him and go home?" Wade got up, sluggishly following his partner. "Maybe you wanna come over to my place? I have lots of cool stuff, and you can break whatever you want!"

"Even you?" Clint froze. _Shit, what the hell did I just say?_ That was dangerously close to flirting. That was not a good idea. If he crossed that line, there was no going back.

"Oh, sure!" The merc brightened and made his way over the rooftops, jogging to keep up as Clint had begun to move more swiftly. "Hey, wait up! You can break me in anytime!"

Clint descended down onto the street and turned the corner, mentally hating everything in the known world as their target met a woman outside a hotel, slipping through the entrance with her. The lady in question was most certainly not his wife. "We'll have to get a room next door, come on."

"Oh, moving pretty quick aren't we? Got any rubbers? Oh well, I guess if I'm bottom it doesn't matter." Wade was completely distracted, talking to himself, falling back on his ass as he ran into a statuesque Barton, face completely blank, expressionless.

The archer squatted down and pressed his face into Wade, "Look you squirming, bitching, cowardly little pimple. I am not going to fuck you now, or later, or ever. Alright? I'm not interested and you need to stop joking around! It's getting on my nerves."

There was a long moment of rare silence between the two, then Wade pulled up the bottom of his mask, leaned forward, and stole a kiss.

Clint's eyes widened and his first reaction was to punch Wilson in the face, though even that didn't remove the feeling of the rough skin against his own. "What the fuck?"

Wade only shrugged. "I might be an asshole… but I'm totally serious."

Barton blushed lightly and turned away, walking in his casual clothes towards the hotel's front doors. He slipped inside and worked on getting the room they needed. If there was a way to kill Wade, and stay dead, Clint might have considered it, though on the other hand... he'd never met anyone short of the Avengers or Fury that could so easily brush him off. The balls he must have… _fuck, don't think about that..._

 **"** **You know, the kiss wasn't too bad, his lips are kind of soft like a girl's."**

"Clint takes care of himself and seems to value personal appearance and hygiene, at least a normal degree… you know, unlike us."

 _"_ _What are you saying?"_

"We're sort of disgusting, you know that."

 _"_ _You don't have to say it, hurts my feelings."_

"Our feelings."

 **"** **Both of you shut up, I'll take a fucking shower, okay?"**

"Probably a good idea."

 _"_ _Will that take away the rotting smell?"_

 **"** **...Fuck you."**

Wade got up off the street and followed his partner into the hotel, managing to catch sight of him as he got in the elevator. "What? You can't just leave me!" Deadpool was in his mask but with more normal clothing and a hoodie. There was no way he was going to get any information out of anyone without threatening them and making a scene. And that was if he asked politely.

He pulled out his phone and texted Clint, 'Room number?'

'Guess.'

'Are you seriously going to make me search the whole hotel?'

'At least you won't be bored anymore.''

Wade blinked and groaned as he felt his stomach twist and his chest ache. He was such a masochist. "He wants me to stop, but he's just so sexy about it… does he not even realize...?" The merc moved towards the stairs and decided to go room by room. Knocking and saying hello to everyone would really piss Clint off, and not in the good way. So, he would just use one of those fun tools Fury had given him. Up until now, he'd been using it like a sixth grader to peek at locker rooms and other naughty things. He supposed this was it's intended use, at least a bit.

For every woman or man lounging on a bed, undressing, or having sex he saw as he scanned the room, (pausing when things needed to be investigated further, of course) he found three cleaning ladies or four empty rooms. The hotel wasn't very active this time of day, most checked in around 4 or 5 in the evening.

 **"** **Can we skip this part?"**

 _ **~skip~**_

 **"** **Huh, maybe you're not so bad."**

The room number of their target, or victim, was 637. The target was in the middle of screwing the escort, her body riding the slightly plumper man. Wade had only watched for a minute or so. It wasn't exactly the most intriguing porn that had ever been presented to him.

 **"** **Whoa there, this is rated M right?"**

"Yes, it is."

 **"** **Then what's with the cut off? I can't talk about my %% # & #$% &... Hey!"**

"Some things need to be left for the reader to imagine on their own. If we listed all your fetishes and your entire porn collection our audience would get turned off. They are here for male on male sex and probably some sweet romance. Anything to do with that, feel free."

"I wish to protest this, it's censorship. You'll have us guzzling a dick but we can't talk about %$# &&."

 _"_ _& ^%##$... Oh that's fun! &^ #%! Hehe, whatever it's not like she'd denying it's there she just doesn't want the reader to go limp."_

 **"** **Why is HE the one making sense?"**

"I've no idea, I'm thoroughly ashamed. Alright just carry on, however, I remain in protest."

 **"** **Alright, let's be clear, anything to do with cock I can talk about?"**

"You're golden."

 **"** **But not &%$$ or && #%? Alright, what about foot fetishes… oh that's fine? Really?"**

"It's not gender bias. Can we move on?"

 **"** **Yes, suppose I'll just start jerking off to Clint in a maid's uniform or something."**

"Please, go ahead."

 **"** **Damn, you bitches are kinky."**

Wade knocked on 638 and waited, grinning, as Clint opened the door for him. "I'm here for our randevu."

Barton rolled his eyes, shutting the door behind his partner. "We won't be here long. I don't think the target can last much longer."

"He'll last as long as these chicks want us alone in a hotel room. Or he'll take a nap." Wade walked to the bed and sprawled out on it. "Come on, stop fighting it and just fuck me already. You know you'd love it, dominating my ass, in more ways than one."

Clint moved to the desk and sat down, masking his expressions, "Do you ever think about anything else?"

"Hmm, death, fighting, sex, and food… specifically chimichangas. Love'em. Maybe sports, sometimes, when there's a good game on? What else is there to really think about? I bet I can boil anything you say down to sex, food, or fighting."

Barton revisited the bait for a long time, going through a list in his head, then he finally took it. "Flowers."

"Food for animals and a sign you wanna fuck your date; Next."

"Stamps."

"Used to send letters to Hustlers by yours truly, also licking is just a fun action in general."

"Old women's shoes."

"Ever seen that horny turtle video?"

Clint banged his head on the desk. "Please, stop." Barton was not used to thinking about everything in such a twisted way. Wade was slowly corrupting, him he could feel it.

"Alright honey, I'll be quiet, I won't say anything else until we leave the hotel… If you give everyone what they want and kiss me." The man tapped his masked lips.

"The whole time?"

"Yep, not one word."

Clint rose from the desk and stood at the side of the bed. He licked his lips and debated for a long time. Then, sliding one knee onto the bed, he pulled up the bottom of Deadpool's mask and pressed his lips against the other man's. It wasn't like the kiss on the street though, his lips parted and his tongue slipped in. He slowly moved forward and pressed Wade's back to the comforter as the kiss deepened, his muscle playing against Wade's until Barton needed to breath.

When he pulled away he rolled the mask back down and smiled, tapping his lips with his forefinger.

 **"** **Damn it, I have a huge boner now."**


End file.
